His Mark
by GamberDragon
Summary: Major AU. What if Heath had been chosen by Nyx? We get our first High Priest since...A long time! o.O Eventual Heath/Stark, Darius/Aphrodite, Rephaim/Stevie Rae, maybe Erik/Damien. Possible uping on the rating later. -.-'


**His Mark**

Chapter One

A/N: Yay, another fandom…Another story…That I have no time to write…Yeah. Anyhow – this is a what-if fanfiction. What would have happened if _Heath_ had been the chosen one of Nyx? Yes, a far-fetched idea indeed, but if anyone is interested, please read! =D Warning, a bit OOC, obviously. O.o

Pairing(s): Heath/Stark, Darius/Aphrodite, Rephaim/Stevie Rae, Erik/Damien (Maybe, and if so - will be explained. XD)

* * *

His head was swimming, his vision entirely too blurry; everything was foggy, and less and less he was remembering what he was even doing. The music in the background of…wherever he was… Was blaring and ringing in his ears, pounding in the back of his skull. Sluggishly, he moved his body to the beat, and right before everything blended together in his memory, he felt a pair of hands around his waist and a voice whispering seductively in his ear, "Hey, sexy, want a ride?"

He knew what he was doing was unhealthy, and, by all means, stupid-bordering-on-retarded. Even without the sad, disapproving looks of his parents or Zoey's lack of attention due to his bad habits, he knew. Alcohol in his system warped him, what he was, what he dreamed of, and his relationships. Everything was at risk with every drink he downed, and every one night stand he had – he could die of an STD even before he died of alcohol poisoning.

Yet, despite him _knowing_, he couldn't seem to stop himself – even with the knowledge that his life was quickly spiraling downwards, he continued with his parties and flings. The light brunette pressed his face into his palms and heaved a sigh that smelled much too deeply of cheap beer. Tonight, he had taken it too far again. As much as he might have said to his girlfriend that he would never…cheat…pretty promises did nothing to mask the ugly truth from the wrongdoer. And he knew that Zo wasn't really buying it either.

Heath Luck uncovered his eyes and scanned the hotel room that he didn't recall how he arrived at. He was seated on a single king-sized bed that was vacated besides him. There were various stains that he didn't care to acknowledge littering the messed up blankets and sheets. The four pillows were all knocked to the ground, and on the side table there were numerous beer bottles. All in all, the room was a disheveled mess and Heath felt sorry and a little guilty for the maid that would have to clean it up. How long away was that anyway? The light-brunette chanced a glance over at the red-glowing clock and was surprised to see that it was only 10:23. How had he roused himself so early? After all the excessive drinking he did no less?

The teenager shrugged his shoulders, trying to get the kinks out of them before standing up. As he wobbled just the slightest, he winced and ignored that pain that shot up his spine from a place that he'd rather not mention. Thankfully there wasn't any practice today, all due to the win at Union – he didn't think he'd be up to it, seeing as he was hobbling like an old person with a back problem in his walk towards the bathroom.

As far as cleanliness, it was awful – and the size wasn't much better, either. There was green shit growing on the floor and it smelled like cigarettes and black mold. Alcohol too. Heath shuddered, another reason to stop partying so much. His future home could look like this, and it could be without Zoey; his girl, his first love. Then again, did he really deserve her? He thought back to those white stains upon the sheets he had passed out on. No, his heart gave a squeeze, he supposed he didn't.

Out of nowhere, as he was stripping down for a shower, his stomach gave a lurch and he was scrambling for the toilet. A nauseous feeling wrapped around him and he emptied yesterday's lunch into the yellowing porcelain. He stayed there until the dry-heaving stopped and then some, just to gather his wits. After everything was no longer spinning, Heath crawled over to the bathtub and turned the faucet on. He waited until it was blistering hot to get in, hissing in a pain that he really needed right at that moment.

Vaguely, he wondered where his 'partner' had gone off to; and what he had looked like. Sadly, that was a mystery. Heath declared his idiocy internally as he took the complimentary shampoo and washed his gel-sticky hair. It struck him then, the fact that he was actually skipping out on school…_Again_. What a sure-fire way to lose Zoey. His hand dropped numbly to his side, whispering in his mind that that was probably for the best. Didn't she deserve the world? There was nothing, really, for him to offer her. Even though he was the best in the football team, what good would that do when his body was deteriorated by the alcohol he guzzled?

But even if he quit now…There was the fact that he had _cheated_ on her, multiple times. Was he even safe anymore? Heath didn't have the guts to check, nor did he have the guts to let her go. Swallowing a lump in his throat, the teenager redressed and rushed out of the hotel completely – not able to face the fact of his disloyalty any longer. He slammed the door and ran down the hallway to the elevator, slamming his fist into the button and sighing in relief as it immediately opened.

He blinked at the sight of the strange man standing there, and then gaped at the blue markings on the man's face. A vampyre. Heath backed away nervously, swallowing thickly and wondering if he should run or just not look at him and attempt his elevator ride. The situation was taken out of his hands when the man raised a finger and pointed at him.

"Heath Luck! Night has chosen thee; thy death will be thy birth. Night calls to thee; hearken to Her sweet voice. Your destiny awaits you at the House of Night.

The pain was blinding, especially coupled with the fact that he already still had the remains of a hangover. Heath fell to the ground in a heap, out like a light.

He must not have been out for long, as when he opened foggy brown eyes, he was still laying on the floor in the middle of the hallway of the hotel. That or the staff members were major, uncaring assholes. Of course, judging by the nasty state of their rooms, that could be very possible, too.

Heath groaned as he sat up, feeling a major, stinging pain on his temple. Then, he remembered, he was marked. To be a vampire. "Ah fuck…" the wheat-blonde slapped a hand to his forehead, and then groaned again. That had hurt. "Shit…Shit." Didn't people who ignored their mark and didn't go to the House of Night…Die?

While becoming a vampire - a freak of nature, was not appealing, neither was being a pile of decaying flesh trapped in a dirt-covered box. He didn't really have a choice, did he? But how was he supposed to get there? Wouldn't he burst into flame if he stepped outside during the day? Did he have to wait until nighttime to leave the hotel? What if he got arrested for loitering? Did he have to stay away from garlic? How had the tracker got him if it was daytime? "Too many fucking questions…" he clutched his head, feeling like his brain was about to explode.

Now, Heath wasn't the brightest bulb in the bunch, and this was just too many thoughts for him to process while his head was searing from the tracker and a hangover. All he knew was that he had to go to the House of Night and that he did NOT want to go to the House of Night. Two contrasting things he knew that did not help him at all.

"Shit, shit, shit."

It dawned on him that he was laying in the middle of the hotel's third-floor hallway and he slowly dragged himself to his feet. He hated when things were taken out of his hands. Now where the hell was Tulsa's House of Night?

* * *

Sometime during his aimless, frustrating drive around Tulsa, he had started having troubles breathing – like he was underwater, attempting to get oxygen. Heath gave a hacking cough, gripping the steering wheel tighter, and instinctively squeezing his eyes shut. He grimaced at the feel of mucus sliding down his throat. That…Was nasty. Was this going to be how he died? Coughing up slimy shit and running out of oxygen?

There was a loud honking, and Heath barely swerved his truck out of a collision with a Beretta in time. He had to focus…But it was becoming more and more difficult, his head was buzzing, making it hard to concentrate, and now he was coughing up what seemed to be his lung. Figuratively, of course, but still, he felt like he was dying here. Or maybe he was. Heath could stop his violent coughing, it was even beginning to trigger his gag-reflex, luckily though, he had nothing to puke up.

However, that didn't stop the dry-heaving. He didn't even get to look up to see the incoming car heading straight for him. The last thing he heard was a loud honking, a metallic crash, and then he was vaguely aware of pain before passing out.

_It was a strange sensation; here he was, _floating_ above…himself. Staring down at the Heath that was in the middle of a car-wreck. Shit, was he dead now? He didn't feel like he was dead – but what did that really say? What did being dead really feel like? Maybe it felt just like this. He _was_ bleeding relatively profusely down there. Shit, he really wasn't ready for death…_

"_Heath…Come here my child." The wheat-blonde blinked, trying to locate the ethereal, musical voice._

_Then he was being pulled, by some unknown force, towards…Somewhere. Over the rainbow? Third star to the right and straight on until morning? Wow, was he high or something? Now that he really looked around, there were blue, foggy letters forming all around his head, mirroring his thoughts. "Huh, you die, you get high…That's not a bad deal." He grinned as his words formed all around him in a bright blue color._

"_This is fucked up, but kind of cool."_

_Now he realized that he was being pulled into the nearby park, but, somehow it was different. It was gorgeous and mystical, with not a garbage can or sidewalk in sight. It was like he was deep in a forest now, and he was stopping in a sunlight-tinted grove. His breath fell away as he saw the woman that was sitting, up against a large oak._

_She was easily the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen, and that was saying a lot when you considered Jessica Alba, or Zo were fucking hot. But there was something…About her that just told his soul that she wasn't someone to lust after. Like it was inappropriate, and that closest thing he should see her as would be a mother-like figure._

"_Come here, child." The woman had hair the shade of the blackest midnight sky, with streaks of blue and violet through them. Or so it seemed. Heath stumbled towards her, blinking and staring in awe at her beauty._

"_Who are you?"_

"_I'm known by many names; Changing Woman, Gaea, A'akuluujjusi, Kuan Yin, Grandmother Spider, Dawn, The Mother, The Maiden, The Crone…" she smiled at him beautifully, "In this day and age, however, I am known as Nyx."_

_Heath stared at her, feeling a little panicked, "The vampyre Goddess…"_

"_Though they weren't the first ones to worship me, yes I have been happy to call the vampyres my children." She turned her gaze upon him then, "And you, my child, are very special amongst those vampyres."_

_The wheat-blond blinked at her in confusion, "Me?"_

"_You have something special…I will admit that you were not considered for quite awhile, to be Marked as my own. However, I cannot ignore the purity and understanding that rings from your soul, even despite the questionable choices you have made."_

_Heath closed his eyes painfully._

"_But I desire to give you another chance at life…It may not be what you have dreamed of thus far, but it is a new beginning I offer." She spoke serenely, melodiously, like just her voice could make everything okay. "If you become my eyes and ears in your world, you just may be able to rebuild your life."_

_Heath swallowed thickly…Was he being offered a purpose again? He had, somewhere deep inside him, fully realized that he would never have Zoey or his football career. And, even deeper in his mind, he accepted that he had no reason to live without her or that. Eventually he would rot from STDs or alcohol poisoning, and that would be that._

_But here was Nyx, goddess of the _vampyres_, offering him something to dedicate his useless life to. What did he have to lose? Nothing, really, not anymore – he had lost all that he had loved and wanted…Or he was on the highway towards it, anyway. "Goddess Nyx…I don't want to die, and I want to have a purpose for living…I accept, I will become your eyes and ears."_

_She smiled comfortingly at him, "I'm sure you will do well. It will be difficult, sometimes people cannot accept drastic changes – but I have confidence that you can achieve acceptance. Something new is just what our world needs right now."_

_He nodded at her, and she gently touched my forehead, "Go forth, my child, I believe you can do this."_

The next thing Heath became aware of was that he was lying down on some really nice, soft, comfortable bed sheets. There was someone touching his forehead and he blinked groggily, opening his eyes and meeting a pair of startling emerald eyes.

"Welcome, Heath Luck, to the House of Night." The owner of the green eyes was a breathtakingly gorgeous woman with long, flowing red hair.

"Uh, what? How do you know my name? Who are you?"

"I am Neferet, High Priestess of Tulsa's House of Night." While it answered one question, Heath frowned slightly to realize she didn't share how she had figured out his name. "Tell me, Heath; are you happy with your name?"

The blond tilted his head, staring at the motherly-looking woman in confusion, "Sure I am…Why?"

"It just seems like a too ordinary name for someone such as yourself," for some reason, her gaze lingered on his forehead momentarily, "In the House of Night, you are given a chance to restart your life, renaming included." She paused, "So, with the option available, would you choose a new name?"

Heath scratched his head, "Nah…I'm happy just fine with my name as it is."

Neferet smiled, "Very well." Her face turned serious, "I must ask, Heath, what you remember about the accident you're lucky to have survived." Once again, her emerald gaze focused on his forehead, making him feel rather self-conscious. Instinctually, he rubbed his temple, wincing slightly at the pain that shot through him.

"Have you even seen it yet?"

"Seen what?"

Neferet patiently stood up, walked over to a large wooden table and grabbed an object off of it; seconds later returning with what was now identifiable as a mirror. She handed it to the confused boy and he immediately looked at his reflection.

He stared. The person he saw there was different - but obviously still him. Handsomer; with healthier looking hair, larger eyes, his eyebrows seemed to be more arched, and his lips fuller. What for? He had no clue. But he wasn't really paying attention to those miniscule details, no, he was staring at the full blue crescent mark plastered in the middle of his forehead.

"It is," his attention was dragged back to Neferet, "extremely odd that the crescent is fully filled in, on a fledgling that was just found crashed nearby the campus." She paused; pursing her lips, "Can you remember anything, anything at all?" her tone was gentle, but utterly interested.

Heath opened his mouth, considering telling her about the strange experience he had had with floating like a ghost over his body and meeting with Nyx. But a strange clenching in his gut stopped him before he could say the words. "I was feeling ill, crashed and I don't remember anything further than that."

Neferet looked lightly disappointed, but covered it up well. "You were away from Adult Vampyres for too long, you're lucky to be alive." She shook her head, "Alright, we've dallied enough, time to get you settled in, Heath Luck. Your new roommate has been curious about you.

When they stepped out in the hallway, Heath couldn't help but compare this interior to what one would think of a castle. Stone corridors, grand, heavy oak doors…It was actually pretty cool. "It's 2 a.m. now, so classes will be over in an hour…Hardly practical to introduce you to your last class." I blink at her, 2 a.m.? Then again, Vampyres…Though apparently they don't burst into flames because of sunlight, it certainly gets in one's eyes. Made sense – or enough sense.

She looked at him, saw that his face was not a question-mark, and continued, "I'll show you to your room and I'm certain your roommate will be happy to show you around."

Heath nodded at her and followed her lead, only stopping when she stopped to receive a phone-call. After smiling apologetically at him, she spoke into it, frowned, and hung up a moment later after a few words. "One of the fledglings broke her leg; and it seems she's having a difficult time in recovering. I must attend to this, if you would wait for me here?" she didn't wait too long for an answer and swept away with her swishing skirts flaring out dramatically.

The blonde stood there, watching the way she had left, tapping his foot. Heath had always been one to get bored very easily. '_I can find my way back here in time…'_ What was wrong with a little exploring of the place he would be at for the rest of his teenage life?

_Heath… _A voice called out and the 17 year old stopped short, looking around in confusion – that sounded quite a bit like Nyx, didn't it? He turned down a seemingly-random corridor and paused, pushing himself against a wall. His eyes focused in on two other Vampyre fledglings, one in the middle of giving head, and the other obviously in the middle of receiving. - Though the boy/receiver didn't actually look like he was enjoying it as much as one normally would.

The giver was digging her finely manicured nails into the receiver's thighs, staring up at him with a dangerous glint in her eyes. Heath eyed her warily; he actually was quite adept at spotting bitchy women. This one hit the credentials on the Heath-meter right on. The receiver, who was actually quite attractive, blearily opened his eyes, glaring down at the blonde woman on her knees. "No."

She smirked at him, "As if you really mean that."

"No."

Heath raised a brow. Really, the tall, black-haired teenager could push away the girl who currently had the lower ground? '_Sad…' _"No!" and was that all he could say? There was a loud crash and Heath, the receiver, jumped, the giver merely blinked and turned irritably towards the interruption. The brunette who had appeared was standing there, slack-jawed, dumbfounded, and shaking slightly, looking embarrassed. The wheat-blonde stared – the kid was kind of cute…And totally setting off his bi-dar. Yes, bisexual radar. Handy only for spotting strictly gay boys and Lesbos, sadly. Finding other bi's was out of the question…Hey, everyone has their limitations, right?

The gay kid's voice broke him out of his thoughts and Heath watched in interest at the three people. The brunette was looking disappointed, the blonde was frowning meanly at him, and the black-haired guy was looking uncomfortable.

"What," her voice was like ice, man, "are you doing down here, third former?"

The boy frowned at her in response, "I'm heading to the dorms… I wasn't aware this hall was taken." He glanced momentarily at the other guy before going back to the giver of oral sex.

"Maybe you should have taken a detour, nerd."

The 'nerd' bristled slightly before the black-haired guy stepped in, "Leave him alone, Aphrodite, he hasn't done anything to you." She snapped back to glare at him frostily, lips thinning angrily. He stoutly refused to flinch. Heath wondered why he was still snooping on this. "Go on, Damien." He ignored the glacial look he received and smiled slightly at the brunette boy.

Heath smirked slightly at Damien when the he blushed and looked a little too light-headed. Gay boy had a crush. "T-thanks." He moved away stiffly, pointedly avoiding Aphrodite's gaze as if she was the devil and waiting to suck out his soul.

The wheat-blonde jumped, slightly panicked, he had to get out of here before the Damien boy realized that he had been snooping!

When Neferet finally showed him to the boy's dormitory, she gave him directions to his room and let him go on alone from there. Something about 'important business'. Fair enough. Heath walked up to the third floor, to his new room, and paused uncertainly. He wondered what his roommate would be like… The former football player shrugged, pressed on the door, and opened it, peering in to the dark room. No one was in.

He sighed, and settled for just looking around. He easily located the side of the room that was to be his – as it was incredibly bare compared to the other side. - The other side having a bed with luxurious black silk, electric blue bedding – his, in stark contrast, having just white sheets. He was happy, if bewildered, to see that several boxes full of his stuff were on the floor next to his bed. Were the Vampyres just all-powerful and resourceful?

There was little to time to ponder that question as the door opened behind him and he was turning to face his new roommate. He blinked. '_Oh, huh…' _It was the black-haired receiver of oral sex. That, was a tad awkward…


End file.
